


High Expectations

by Woofemus



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 01:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13987488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woofemus/pseuds/Woofemus
Summary: "You're not my dadapon!"Mòrag and Tora have a disagreement.





	High Expectations

When Mòrag and Brighid finally join forces with the Aegis and her companions, it allows them both to realize… how _young_ they all are. They knew in their previous encounters, but it’s never more obvious to them than right now.

“Rex… for the Aegis’ Driver, he’s far younger than I expected. I would put him at… perhaps, his early teens?” Mòrag glances over at Brighid. “What would you say, Brighid?”

“Hm,” Brighid rests her chin on the back of her hand as she pretends to think. “Ten.”

“... Brighid.”

“You wanted my guess.”

Mòrag sighs and shakes her head. “Never mind. Then, what about Tora?”

“ _Tora?_ ” Brighid’s so surprised that even Mòrag looks at her oddly, but she can’t help her surprise. Mòrag’s never sent much thought toward the nopon’s way other than mentioning how impressive it was that he’d built an artificial Blade.

“I would dare say he’s even younger than the others, but he’s chosen to take on the role of being everyone’s shield for battle.” Mòrag crosses her arms, frowning slightly. “I only fear the burden may be too heavy for him.”

The gears start to click in place for Brighid. She can hardly believe what Mòrag is saying, and yet, she can. Her Driver’s always been one to worry about these things that seem trivial to anyone else, but perhaps it is the way she’s been raised. Mòrag, despite her stoicism, is one of the most compassionate souls Brighid has ever known in this lifetime.

Is Mòrag simply a captain worried about her own platoon, or a concerned older sister who needs someone new to coddle?

The last thought nearly makes Brighid laugh aloud. Mòrag would surely object to being called that.

“Well, we’re here traveling with them, aren’t we? Why don’t we take the reins from them for a bit?” Brighid suggests, but Mòrag only shakes her head.

“They have potential... I would not want to get in the way of their growth.”

“We can lead by example, Lady Mòrag.”

“Yes, but…” Mòrag frowns again. There’s something else bothering her. Brighid’s tempted to keep nagging her until she spills, but Mòrag only shakes her head. “Perhaps I'm worrying too much about this. They've already come so far, in any case.”

She really is worrying too much, Brighid wants to tell her. Children or not, these are still Drivers with Blades that are capable of taking care of themselves. Mythra is the _Aegis_ , and not to mention, there’s Dromarch.

… but maybe Brighid can keep a closer eye on Tora and Poppi just in case. That’s why she can catch the secretive (or not) glances Tora keeps sending Mòrag’s way. Brighid brushed it off as mere curiosity, at first. It isn’t everyday that a distinguished Driver such as the Flamebringer walks amongst such a ragtag group. Even she caught Rex staring at Mòrag like he wasn’t sure what to make of someone so prestigious following their group.

But now, Brighid’s absolutely sure what it is, especially after one such battle where Tora’s quick thinking manages to eliminate their enemies quicker than anticipated.

“Was Mòrag watching Tora?! Tora move very quick just like Mòrag, yes?!”

“Yes, you’ve done well,” Mòrag answers with a nod and one of her tiny smiles. Tora’s eyes sparkle and he bounces in place, giddy to receive such high praise from Mòrag. For the most part, Mòrag doesn’t seem to notice the way her words have Tora shaking so excitedly, already looking away and scouting for any possible danger.

Brighid’s seen that look and expression all the time when they’re back in Mor Ardain. It’s the same exact look the fresh recruits make, the ones who happen to be lucky (or unlucky) enough to get a rare training session from the Special Inquisitor herself. Their adoration and awe shine bright on their still fresh faces.

Unfortunately, Tora’s… enthusiasm, can also lead to some missteps. There’s been more than a few times where his want to impress Mòrag leads to less than stellar battles.

“Tora, you must be careful! A misstep there, and the enemy have Nia knocked unconscious!”

“Tora, your attack was too strong! You’ve nearly knocked _me_ over into the cloud sea!”

“Tora, what are you doing?! You’ve being reckless with your movements! A misstep there and the enemy would have knocked Nia unconscious, and it would have spelled doom for all of us! You _must_ be better than this, Tora!”

Each statement of criticism strikes straight into Tora’s heart, Brighid can see. He always deflates so visibly afterward, his wings pushed against his head as he stares down at the ground. Mòrag stands over him with her stern expression, not even letting up when she sees how down Tora looks. The others stand nearby, watching curiously (but Rex is the one who’s cringing in sympathy for Tora, he’s gotten more than his fill of scoldings from Azurda and Corinne.)

Of course, how could Mòrag be soft when it came to the safety of the squad?

But, perhaps, this might not be the best approach.

Tora only nods his head stiffly and shuffles off like a child who’s been reprimanded for playing with something he shouldn’t have been. Mòrag watches him go, her brow furrowing in concern afterward.

“Perhaps I was too harsh with my words there,” Mòrag says worriedly, “I should apologize.”

“You… may have been a bit harsh, but I don’t think it’s anything you have to apologize for,” Brighid says. Children are... rough to deal with, she thinks, especially children like _Tora._ All their years of experience could have never prepared for them to deal with… adolescents.

Mòrag shakes her head, looking oddly determined. “Perhaps, but I still feel I went too far.”

Brighid shrugs her shoulders though Mòrag isn’t looking at her to see it. “If it makes you feel better, Lady Mòrag.”

Not that Mòrag gets the chance to. When Tora rejoins the group, he decidedly keeps away from Mòrag. Poppi keeps looking back and forth between the two of them. Even that gets to tugging at Brighid’s heart, knowing that Poppi is caught up in the middle too. It looks like Mòrag’s done with waiting too, because her entire posture changes and now she’s taking longer, purposeful strides toward Tora.

A roar makes them all freeze in place, their blood running cold when they realize what it is.

The territorial rotbart that roams the Gormotti plains is quickly advancing upon a group of wagons. There are people screaming, trying to run away but—

“Let’s go!” Rex shouts as he dashes toward the group, Mythra already following closely behind.

“R-Rex! Wait up!” Nia yells, scowling before she too starts to run after him. The rest of the group follows suit, Mòrag trying to run ahead of everyone to grab the rotbart’s attention before it can look at the others.

Except Tora is somehow bouncing far faster than she can run. Alarms go off in Mòrag’s mind as she wills herself to run faster. In his current state, she knows what he means to do, and she absolutely _cannot_ allow that.

“Tora! Fall back!” Mòrag shouts, sprinting as fast she can for him. Brighid shouts after her but Mòrag can’t stop for her Blade, not when Tora is in danger himself. But he either doesn’t hear or isn’t listening to her because he keeps running toward the rotbart. “ _Tora!_ ”

“Tora can help too!” he yells, holding up the biter as he charges toward the rotbart. He waves his drill, trying to grab the rotbart’s attention.

The rotbart roars, pounding its chest before it completely turns toward Tora. Poppi’s hardly caught up to Tora and trying to ready their ether link but even she looks frightened as she stares up at the tyrant. Mòrag’s still running as fast as she can when the rotbart rears back its arm.

Mòrag leaps forward just as the rotbart swings. She tackles Tora and Poppi, heart nearly stopping when she feels the rush of air behind her from the force of the rotbart’s punch. Somehow managing to land on her feet, she continues running, ignoring Tora’s protests even as both he and Poppi cling tightly to her.

The rotbart bellows as it runs after her now but a wall of blue flames forces it to stop. Mòrag quickly turns her head, trying to find where Brighid is. She left her Blade all alone to get to Tora, and if the rotbart were to go after Brighid instead—

A sickening pang erupts through Mòrag.

But thankfully, Brighid is riding atop Dromarch now. They’re running circles around the rotbart, with Brighid using her flames to direct the rotbart around the field and away from the others. When it thinks it’s found a spot to go through, Dromarch sends out a roar of ether that forces the rotbart back. Him being of water element means his roar douses some of the flames but Brighid quickly closes the gap with new flames that burn ever hotter.

Eventually, the rotbart decides it’s too much trouble to try to force its way through the annoying flames (though Mòrag is absolutely sure that it would have broken through with nary a wound if it tried) and turns away, already disinterested. Everyone holds their breath, watching, only letting their guard down when it disappears into one of the sprawling caverns underneath a massive tree.

Rex and the others have already helped the poor travelers out and now, with the rotbart gone, they’re helping them with the cargo. Mòrag slows down, and then remembers she’s still holding Tora and Poppi. She quickly sets them down, and rounds on Tora, recalling how he rushed off without heeding her calls.

Dromarch and Brighid catch up to them. He lets off Brighid, and looks like he’s about to return to Nia’s side when he looks curiously between Mòrag and Tora, sensing the weird tension in the air between them.

Mòrag takes a deep breath but can hardly contain her anger for long. “Tora! I told you to fall back! Why didn’t you listen to me?! You would have sought to endanger everyone!”

Tora doesn’t answer her, and he’s staring hard at the ground. His hands are clenched, and Brighid can see him visibly shaking. Oh, no. This can only go one of two ways, and Brighid already suspects which one it is, when Tora suddenly snaps his head up at Mòrag and waves his wings and arms around.

“Mòrag always yelling so much at Tora!! Mòrag isn’t—you not—you not Tora’s dadapon!” he shouts as he explodes in anger.

Then, silence. Tora’s breathing hard as he glares at Mòrag, whose eyes are wide and mouth is actually open with surprise.

Tora makes a face and dashes off, bouncing back toward Torigoth. Poppi cries out in surprise, about to run off after him before she freezes, hesitantly looking back at everyone.

When she looks at Mòrag, she has the saddest expression Mòrag’s ever seen on, well, anyone, much less a _robot._ She looks so distressed that even Brighid has the urge to reach out and stroke her head and tell her everything will be fine, but she holds herself back. Instead, she moves her head so Poppi looks over her, and gestures toward Torigoth. Poppi still looks uncertain as she clenches her fists but slowly nods.

“P-Poppi apologize for Masterpon’s behavior! Will go find and talk sense into him!” she says frantically before running off.

By now, everyone else has caught up to them, and they’re looking back and forth between Mòrag and Tora. Zeke looks like he wants to say something but Nia quickly nudges his side and he wisely shuts his mouth.

“What happened here?” Nia asks, her voice quiet. Most likely, she meant that for Dromarch, but with the sheer silence, it sounds so loud.

Mòrag jolts, eyes whipping over to Nia and everyone else. “I... “ She coughs into her hand. “Excuse me, Tora and I… we had a disagreement, and he… ran off. But, Tora is the one I am… worried for. Would you all please check if he’s at least gotten back to Torigoth safe?”

“Of course,” Pyra says with a clap of her hands, getting everyone’s attention. Brighid hadn’t even realized Mythra switched places with her. “Let’s call it a day.” She pointedly looks at everyone but especially Zeke, who looks like he’s itching to say something, not that he should, Brighid thinks. But Brighid makes sure to nod gratefully at Pyra.

When everyone is finally gone, Brighid turns to Mòrag. “Lady Mòrag, are you okay?”

“Yes, _I_ am,” Mòrag answers though Brighid’s not sure if she’s fully comprehended her question. For one, she still looks utterly confused, forehead wrinkled, mouth clenched tight. Brighid almost wants to laugh. There aren’t many times where Mòrag wears such a cute expression upon her face.

“Careful, you’ll get wrinkles if you keep doing that,” Brighid can’t help but tease. Mòrag blinks and looks over at Brighid, the confused furrow of her brow deepening. It must be bothering her more than she realizes. Brighid turns slightly serious, patiently waiting for Mòrag to speak her worries. “What is it, Lady Mòrag?”

“The issue of Tora aside for now… Brighid,” she starts in a slow tone, as if she’s still trying to work through her thoughts. “Tora called me a dadapon, but… should I not be called a mamapon instead?”

“ _Really_ , Lady Mòrag.”

“I-I am merely curious!”

* * *

Mòrag remains quiet in thought as they return back to Torigoth themselves. Not that anyone else really notices, with Mòrag being usually quiet anyway, but Brighid can tell there is a pensiveness to her.

Of all the things to let bother her.

“Lady Mòrag, I’m thinking of taking a stroll around Torigoth for a bit, would you care to join me?” Brighid asks. Perhaps a walk around might lift her Driver’s spirits, but Mòrag only shakes her head.

“Forgive me but I’m afraid I must pass. I would not be the best companion in my current state.”

“Lady Mòrag—”

“Please, don’t mind me, Brighid. Enjoy your walk.” She gives Brighid a tired smile before walking away, not even bothering to wait for Brighid’s response. Brighid’s tempted to light a spark upon her fool of a Driver but it would solve nothing. Perhaps Brighid is the one who should walk to clear her own head.

The walk helps. Brighid’s head is considerably cooler when she returns. She personally thinks Mòrag’s worry is silly, but it always puts a damper on Brighid’s own mood knowing her Driver is in an agitated state.

When she comes into their room, Mòrag is laying down on one of the beds in the room as she stares up at the ceiling, her legs still on the floor, and her arms crossed, seemingly lost in thought. Brighid doubts she even heard her entrance, but she can hear Mòrag shifting on the bed, most likely turning toward her.

“How was your walk?” Mòrag asks. Brighid moves over to the bed, looming over Mòrag. Her Driver’s trying to look neutral but there’s no hiding the wrinkles of her forehead from Brighid. She’d probably been thinking the entire time since coming back to their room.

“Well enough,” Brighid answers almost absently as she sits down next to Mòrag’s legs. She means to scoot back but Mòrag immediately sits up. Her arms are _still_ crossed, and she looks _so_ silly doing that but it’s become endearment at this point. Brighid notices that she’s let down her hair as well, but not her coat. Mòrag must be… bothered more than her own Driver realizes.

“Is what happened earlier still bothering you?” Brighid asks.

“Of course,” Mòrag answers with a voice that sounds far too grim for their topic. It makes Brighid smile wryly, not that Mòrag is paying much attention to her. “How could it not?”

“Tora is still a child. We know he’s rather… volatile with his moods.”

Mòrag hums. “I suppose I’ve been spoiled with his Majesty. He was excitable but a quiet boy most of the time.”

“You say this as if you’ve always foreseen you’d travel with children,” Brighid teases. Mòrag has the grace to blush.

“Not _all_ of them are children,” she mutters.

“They might as well be compared to us.”

“... you make it sound as if we’re far older than we really are.”

“... is that not why we—you’re in this situation?”

Mòrag’s unamused as she glares at Brighid out of the corner of her eye. But she sighs, uncrosses her arms, and crosses them again. “Brighid,” she starts, mulling over her words as she tries to figure out how best to ask this without Brighid teasing her. “Do… do you think I resemble… a father figure for Tora?”

Brighid immediately falls silent, doesn’t say anything for seconds that seem so long that it feels uncomfortable. But how does Brighid answer something like _this_ without laughing incredulously first? Leave it to Mòrag to ask something so silly in complete seriousness.

Mòrag coughs into her hand. “Ah, excuse me. I misspoke.” She clears her throat. “I meant… do you think… I resemble a parental figure for Tora?”

In spite of herself, Brighid lets a smile slip out of her otherwise exasperated mood. Of course Mòrag would do something like fix such a tiny detail like that without realizing how truly insignificant they are. But this is precisely why Brighid can’t help but be so fond of her.

“Do you think _Zeke_ would make a better one?” Brighid asks instead.

Mòrag’s expression turns alarmed. “Are you saying that it defaults to me, then?”

“Of course not,” Brighid says, but the way she pretends to say it so plainly rouses a chuckle out of Mòrag. It makes Brighid smile too.

She scoots back on the bed, moving to sit behind Mòrag and tug on her coat. Mòrag takes the hint and moves her arms out, standing slightly as Brighid pulls the coat off. Brighid carefully places it down besides them on the bed (were Mòrag not so pensive, she would have asked for Brighid to hang it up.) Then, she places her hands on Mòrag’s shoulders, adds some heat to fingers, and start to rub. Mòrag immediately closes her eyes, groaning in contentment.

“Lady Mòrag, you’ve... “ Brighid contemplates her words. “You are… a very considerate person, more than you realize, you know.”

“... is that so.” Mòrag sounds unconvinced. Brighid sighs, this time out of fondness.

“Of course, Lady Mòrag. I’ve been by your side for so long, I notice things about you that you don’t realize yourself.”

“... hm.” Mòrag sighs, a heavy breath that Brighid can feel under her hands. “I know I offer my advice to him… but perhaps it is unsolicited. I know I can go too far sometimes.”

“You only criticize and scold him because you do so out of concern. You only wish to see him grow into his potential, yes?”

“I… yes. I suppose.” The lines on Mòrag’s forehead deepen even more. Why is she so disbelieving in herself? “But the way I’ve been treating him… I’m treating him like a soldier when he isn’t. Tora is just a young boy. A gifted genius engineer, but still a young boy regardless. I suppose that is where my problem is, isn’t it?”

“That’s to be expected. You’re used to leading a platoon of soldiers rather than fighting alongside friends. And when we’ve done it for as long as we have, it takes some adjusting,” Brighid says.

Mòrag sighs deeply. “I know, but that should be no excuse. Tora… none of them are soldiers. I should not expect them to fight in the capacity as one.”

“It is… a learning process, Lady Mòrag, for all of us. But, it isn’t everyday that one gets to fight alongside the illustrious Flamebringer, is it? How rare the opportunity it is for someone like Tora to fight by your side,” Brighid adds.

Mòrag’s eyes widen as if she’s had a realization. She looks over her shoulder at Brighid, who still remains carefully composed, hands still working at Mòrag’s shoulders. “I… hm. I had not… considered that. Hm, yes.” She turns away, bringing a hand to her chin as she thinks to herself. “In any case, though, I… should apologize to him tomorrow. I would not wish for this to be irredeemable on both our parts.”

You have nothing to apologize for, Brighid wants to tell her, but Mòrag will still do it anyway. Mòrag’s noble heart is both a curse and a blessing. “If you wish,” she replies instead.

“I should,” Mòrag says with a firm nod of her head. “Thank you, Brighid, for talking through this with me.”

“Of course, Lady Mòrag.” Brighid reaches up to affectionately pat Mòrag’s cheek before returning to her shoulder, still rubbing the tense muscles underneath. Mòrag hums with contentment, her eyes closing. They remain like that for several minutes before Mòrag suddenly opens her eyes, turning her head so she can look at Brighid over her shoulder.

“... Brighid. One last question, if I may.”

“Yes, Lady Mòrag?”

“Do you think Tora thinks of you as a dadapon or mamap—”

Mòrag cuts herself off with a yelp as Brighid abruptly digs her fingers into Mòrag’s shoulders. “Let’s not think about that.”

* * *

Tora comes to find them the next day.

Or, rather, Tora somehow stumbles upon them as he tries to dash past the square, and freezes in place when he finds Brighid and Mòrag sitting at the fountain.

“O-oh! Mòrag already awake!” Tora exclaims, suddenly nervous. “A-and Brighid too!” he remembers to add, eyes darting between the two of them as he holds his hands up defensively.

“It is almost noon, Tora,” Mòrag says with a raised eyebrow. Tora starts to look panicked. Mòrag realizes she must look stern again so she tries to soften her expression but Tora starts to shake his head and inch away from them.

“Uh!” He’s making obvious glances between them and the marketplace. Brighid almost wants to tell him to just _go_ , if only because he looks… pitiful the longer he stands here.

“Masterpon!” There’s Poppi now, coming up to them. “You finally awake! Masterpon told Poppi to wake Masterpon early but told Poppi to be quiet when Poppi did! Then Masterpon disappear from—”

“P-Poppi!” Tora immediately takes her hand and dashes off, yelling. “W-we need new parts for maintenance! No time to waste!”

“H-huh?! Masterpon! Poppi not know about any—”

And just like that, Tora, and Poppi too, are both gone. Mòrag blinks before slowly looking over at where Tora ran off. “... I wonder what that’s about,” Mòrag says, slightly bewildered.

“I’m sure we’ll find out in due time,” Brighid answers sagely.

It feels like quite a while before Tora finally returns, Poppi in tow behind him too. He’s doing the slowest shuffle either of them have seen a living being do, like he’s trying to stall the inevitable. Mòrag tries to pretend she doesn’t notice him until he gets close enough that it would be awkward to not say anything.

“Tora,” she greets with a nod. Tora freezes in place for a split second before he starts to waddle—er, walk toward her again. He’s keeping his face down still even when he stands in front of her. Mòrag wonders if she should stand but Brighid places a hand on her shoulder, keeping her still. Sitting down, then.

He stands in front of her, not saying anything. Mòrag wonders if she should say something, to at least help… ease the conversation along. She glances over at Brighid for a clue but Brighid only shakes her head. Waiting, then?

“Tora sorry for yelling at Mòrag like that yesterday,” he says in a mumble. “Didn’t… didn’t mean to. Tora was just…” He meets her eyes for a brief second before quickly casting back down again. He's bracing himself, like she's going to scold him or give him some kind of punishment. The very sight of him brings a tight feeling inside Mòrag.

Nopon or not, he's still a young boy, Mòrag reminds herself. She understands exactly what it's like to want to impress a father and receive his praise. Tora… is the same way, only wanting to do his best for her.

Or, er, well, a father… figure like… her. Parental figure. Mòrag’s still slowly resigning herself to the idea.

“Tora,” Mòrag starts, trying not to feel even worse when Tora flinches at her voice. She leans forward and reaches out, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I should apologize as well, Tora. I did not mean to… be so harsh in my words.”

Tora looks up at her, confusion all over his face. Mòrag awkwardly clears her throat as she continues. “I realize that I am the one treating you unfairly. Perhaps I felt a need to coddle you because of your youth.”

“M-Mòrag?” Tora seems scared now, looking over at Brighid for help even. What a day, that he would willingly seek help from Brighid. “T-Tora not understand what Mòrag is trying to say. Um…”

Mòrag pushes her lips together. Brighid can feel her frustration. Mòrag has never been one for words save for grand and outlandish declarations, and she’s never been stuck in quite the strange situation like this before.

“What I mean is… Tora, in the end, we fight alongside each other in battle as comrades, as friends. I trust you with my life, just as I hope you trust me with yours. You still have much to grow and I know I can be… harsh, but I truly want the best for you,” Mòrag says softly. “I do not wish to be your… er, parent, but as your friend, your comrade in battle.”

The speech sounds so… grave and solemn that Brighid feels like its meaning is lost upon someone like Tora. But he slowly nods, some of his regular exuberance returning to him. “Tora understand! Me thinks. But…” He looks hesitant, reluctant almost to speak. Mòrag smiles patiently at him. Honestly, once Mòrag gets into the mindset and stops thinking so much about it, she can charm almost everyone on Alrest, Brighid thinks. And it’s looked like it works on Tora.

“How does Tora get as strong as Mòrag?” he asks. “Mòrag is so strong, Tora want to be strong too! But feel like Tora cannot catch up. Rex-Rex, Nia, and Zeke too, everyone is so strong! And Tora feel...” He looks down at the ground, kicking at the grass, “not very good, like stomachache after eating so much,” he finishes in a quiet voice.

Mòrag understands exactly what he feels. In fact, seeing him like this, struggling with his self-worth when she knows he has so much to offer… it brings a small pang through her, makes her remember of her own impatience when she was younger. Mòrag squeezes his shoulder in reassurance.

“Hard work, and perseverance, Tora. Even there are times where I feel my strongest is not enough, where even my best doesn’t work. But still, I must keep moving forward. That is the only way. There may be others on your same path, but it is only _you_ that can bring yourself forward.”

“Mehmeh…”

Mòrag smiles gently at him. “ _I_ know you are capable of great things, Tora. I will be counting on you. You still have much potential, you'll surely surpass even me one day.”

“Mehmehmeh!” Tora’s eyes are sparkling again, glimmering as he looks with a newfound awe up at her. “R-really?! Mòrag really mean that?”

Mòrag’s smile doesn’t falter at all, not a bit in the slightest. “Of course I do. In fact, I look forward to it.”

“Yay! Tora strong! Tora will work hard then! So happy! Yay!” He’s grinning as he bounces all around. Even Poppi can’t help but start stomping her feet in excitement, a wide smile on her face as she sees how happy her masterpon is, and that Mòrag isn’t mad at them.

“Whew! Tora glad Mòrag is not angry at Tora.” He finally stops bouncing to look up at Mòrag, reaching behind him into his bag. “Tora wants to give Mòrag gift as apology. So here!” He takes out a wrapped package and holds it out for her. “Tora buy Mòrag lots of Tasty Sausages! Is very good, Tora sure Mòrag will like. And if not, Tora always here to take it instead!”

“Did Masterpon buy gift for friend Mòrag, or for Masterpon?” Poppi asks in deadpan, looking at him with both exasperation and disappointment. Tora either doesn’t hear or pretends to ignore her as he looks up at Mòrag, the most hopeful expression on his face. For… what, Mòrag’s not sure, but how is she to refuse something like this?

(“He wouldn’t even have minded if you gave it back to him,” Brighid tells her later with a roll of her eyes.)

Mòrag takes the package, gingerly holding it. Despite her own reservations, this is still a gift from Tora, and it would be rude to not accept.

“Thank you, Tora. I really… appreciate this gesture,” Mòrag says even though her face tells otherwise. Thankfully, Tora is too happy to notice.

“Tora need to go train now! Want to build new core parts for Poppi so have lots of shopping and building to do! Will see Mòrag later but Tora will show Mòrag new skills! Tora won’t let Mòrag down!” He’s already bouncing away before Mòrag and Brighid can even say anything else. But he stops, turns around to wave at them. He’s waving so energetically that Brighid is almost certain he’ll wave his arm and wing off, but the both of them return his wave though not quite matching up to his enthusiasm.

“Well, I feel better about that.” Mòrag looks over at Brighid, a smile on her face that makes Brighid feel like she’s looking at a proud parent rather than her Lady Mòrag. Even Brighid can’t help but feel her heart flutter at the sight. It’s rare for Mòrag to look soft in public.

Poppi turns to them with a relieved smile. “Poppi was afraid would need to address friend Mòrag as dadapon! Poppi would need to make up for being disrespectful all this time.”

Mòrag reaches out, awkwardly patting Poppi on her head. “Er, I… am glad that you did not need to refer to me as that. I would much rather be your friend than your, ah…” a hint of red makes its way across Mòrag’s cheeks in her embarrassment, “your parent.” Brighid smiles in amusement, chuckling for a bit and pretending not to pay attention when Mòrag shoots her a look.

“Poppi is glad Mòrag is still friend too,” Poppi says, grinning up at both of them. Then, she looks over at Brighid. “Oh, would have to refer to Brighid as dadapon too—um, mamapon? Or dadapon? Masterpon call Mòrag dadapon so Brighid would be dadapon too? Hm, not very sure now! Let Poppi ask Masterpon!” And with that, she runs off, leaving behind a bewildered Mòrag and Brighid. Except Mòrag's bewilderment quickly transforms into dawning realization as she looks over at Brighid.

"I _told_ you,” she says smugly, and Brighid only puts a hand on her face and sighs loudly.


End file.
